The sound of screaming clawed its way through Hermione's dreams, a high-pitched, harrowing wail that echoed endlessly in the corridors of her mind. But no matter how terrifying the noise became, her body, exhausted to the bone, refused to free her from its grip. The nightmare clung to her like fog, suffocating and thick.
When she finally tore herself from sleep, she emerged gasping, drenched in a cold sweat. But the screaming hadn't stopped. It was real, distant, but unmistakable. It bled through the castle walls like smoke, impossible to ignore. Her heart slammed against her ribs as her eyes darted wildly through the darkness, struggling to separate dream from waking.
Then came a loud crash, metallic and sharp, followed by an abrupt, deafening silence. It was the kind of silence that seemed unnatural, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Hermione threw back the covers and bolted for the door, dread curling cold and heavy in her gut. The common room was cloaked in eerie shadows. A sliver of moonlight sliced through the parted curtains, casting a pale beam across Theo's empty bed and painting silver onto the floorboards. Her eyes ached from the sudden shift in darkness.
She moved instinctively toward Malfoy's room, but stopped short at the sound of a door creaking open. Theo stepped out quietly, his back to her, as he eased the door shut behind him like it might shatter with too much force.
"Theo?" Hermione's voice was a tremulous whisper, thick with concern.
He exhaled a trembling breath, pressing his forehead to the door as if trying to steady himself. "It's okay, Hermione," he murmured, though his voice wavered. "Go back to bed."
But Hermione didn't move. Something was wrong – visibly, palpably wrong. She stepped forward cautiously, reaching out, and the moment her hand touched his back, Theo flinched, just barely.
"Theo…" she repeated, gentler this time. Slowly, he turned to face her. His hand was pressed to his nose – bloodied and slightly crooked. Hermione swallowed a gasp and instead, put a hand to his cheek. "What happened?"
"I'm fine," Theo responded, his voice barely audible.
"I didn't ask you that," Hermione responded. "I can see that you're not."
"Hermione," he tried to argue.
"What. Happened?" she tried again, firmer this time.
Theo pressed past her and headed for the bathroom but Hermione followed suit. She watched as he clutched the edge of the basin, allowing the blood to run freely from his nose and into the sink. Hermione closed the bathroom door behind them and whispered lumos. In the soft, bluish glow, the damage was clearer. A deepening bruise bloomed beneath his right eye, and dried blood crusted above his upper lip. Theo leaned over the sink again, as if he could hide from her beneath the stream of cold water. He splashed his face, but the blood only mixed with water, twirling down the drain in rusty spirals.
"Theo," she whispered, stepping closer.
"Go," he said sharply. "Please… just go."
"No," Hermione responded, matching his firmness. "You don't get to shut me out." Theo didn't respond but continued splashing water to his bloodied face. "Here, let me," she said softly, covering his hand with hers. She turned off the tap and gently coaxed him to face her. Blood still streamed from his nose, a stark, violent red against his pale skin.
"Episkey," she murmured, waving her wand in a small arc near his face. A soft crack sounded as the bones reset. Theo winced, gritting his teeth, but the tension in his face gradually eased as the pain ebbed. Hermione retrieved a washcloth and carefully dabbed at his lips, her touch tender, reverent. His dark eyes met hers – haunted, wide, and full of a raw vulnerability that made her chest ache.
"I know you're upset with me," she said quietly. "But please… don't push me away."
Theo's jaw clenched. He looked down, then finally spoke. "He had a nightmare."
"I assumed as much," Hermione acknowledged.
"When I tried to wake him, he – he grabbed my throat." Theo's voice cracked slightly, and Hermione's mind flashed back to her own encounter with Malfoy months ago – hands tightening, breath escaping, fear pounding in her ears. "I got free. But he was angry… really angry."
He didn't need to say what happened next. She understood. They stood in silence as she finished cleaning the blood from his face, her fingers careful and slow. She spread a bit of healing salve over the forming bruise, her heart heavy with the weight of everything between them.
When they stepped back into the common space, Hermione guided him toward his bed. Theo didn't argue. He climbed in, sitting upright against the headboard, looking smaller than usual in the dim moonlight. She turned to leave, but he lifted the blankets—a silent invitation.
She hesitated only a moment before sliding in beside him, resting her head gently on his shoulder. His body was tense beneath her, but the contact seemed to ground him.
Then, in a voice so quiet it barely existed, Theo whispered, "You can't die."
Hermione's breath caught. "Why not?" she asked softly.
"Because you're the only thing keeping me sane right now."
The grey light of dawn spilled timidly through the narrow windowpanes, touching everything it reached with a cold sort of softness. Hermione stirred slowly, surfacing from a sleep deeper than she'd known in weeks. Warmth surrounded her – steady, alive – and for a moment, she let herself believe she was still dreaming.
Her head rested against Theo's chest; their legs tangled loosely beneath the blankets. His breathing was slow and even, the rise and fall of it lulling. One of his arms had draped across her back during the night, protective and unconsciously possessive.
She tilted her head just slightly to look at Theo. A faint bruise still lingered beneath his eye, though the swelling had gone down. In sleep, his face was unguarded, softer than she was used to seeing it.
She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, the mattress creaking softly under her movement.
That was the exact moment the door opened.
Malfoy stood in the entryway, frozen mid-step, sleep-mussed and hollow-eyed. His eyes swept the room, landed on the two of them in bed together and stayed there.
Hermione sat up abruptly, Theo's arm slipping away as she did. "Malfoy–" she cut her own words short, knowing how this must have looked. His face went blank. A practiced kind of detachment.
Theo stirred beside her, yawning as he pushed himself up on his elbows. He blinked blearily between his friend and Hermione – still next to him in his bed. "Shit," he mumbled, pressing his fingers to his eyes, searching for memories of the previous night. "This is really, really not what it looks like."
Malfoy scoffed. "Save it," he muttered. "Should've known better than to think either of you would tell me."
"There's nothing to tell, Malfoy," Hermione defended, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and brushing hair out of her face with one hand.
"Right," Malfoy nodded, unconvinced. "Sure."
"She's telling the truth, mate," Theo confirmed. "We fell asleep – that's it."
Malfoy ignored his friends comment and instead turned his attention to Hermione. "Potions classroom, nine o'clock tonight."
Hermione nodded and watched as Malfoy left the dormitory, slamming the door a little too hard behind him. Her gaze flicked to Theo who was resting his head in his hands, propped on his knees. "Fuck, Hermione," he sighed. "I'm sorry."
"What are you apologising for?" she questioned.
"I shouldn't have–" he thought for a moment, flustered. "You know…"
"What?" she asked incredulously. "Fallen asleep in your own bed?"
Theo shrugged. Hermione let out a breath – half laugh, half exasperation. "I'm serious," Theo muttered, not meeting her eye.
"So am I," she said, softer now. "I'm not mad at you, Theo. That's not what this is."
He finally raised his head, his expression caught somewhere between sheepish and conflicted. "It's just – he saw you in my bed. That's not nothing."
Hermione folded her arms loosely across her chest. "It is nothing. Nothing happened."
"Right," Theo hesitated, then added. "I didn't mean to make things weird between us."
"You didn't," Hermione said quickly.
Theo swallowed. "Hermione, I care about you. You know that, right?"
She met his gaze. "I do. And I care about you, too."
A silence settled over the pair.
"But not like that…" Theo added, carefully.
Hermione nodded. "Not like that."
Theo gave a short laugh – dry but not unkind. "Good," he said, rubbing at his face again. "Because I really do care about you. Just not in the falling in love, I want to hold your hand under the stars and kiss you in the rain kind of way."
"That's very specific," Hermione chuckled, the tension finally melting away. She moved back towards the bed and sat down beside him again, throwing herself backwards until her head was in his lap.
Theo sighed. "I don't know how I'd be managing all this if I didn't have you to talk to. Or sleep besides, apparently."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It was one night.
"And still," he teased. "Scandalous."
They both laughed this time – quiet, a little frayed around the edges but genuine. Hermione was relieved that they were already joking about the situation. It made her realise how very real her friendship was with this Slytherin boy.